《弘道錄》Vol. 38

During Yao’s seventy years on the throne, the people committed no wicked or perverse acts. Owls fled to remote places, while qilin roamed among the marsh grasses. This shows that Yao was able to win people’s trust.

The Hongdao lu says, “His integrity was embodied, and he understood how to follow what was right.” This was because following what was right won Heaven’s support, while integrity won people’s support. As a ruler, Yao received Heaven’s support in that Heaven and Earth responded to what was right, all things were able to grow, and every breath flowed in harmony; the Four Sacred Beings also appeared in the world. These auspicious spirits were the dragon, phoenix, qilin, and tortoise. In winning the people’s allegiance, Yao was wise and perceptive enough to govern them, and generous and gentle enough to embrace them all.

Yao took Heaven and Earth as his foundation, and so all things could be brought under good order. He took Yin-Yang as his starting point, and so human feelings and the principles of affairs could be set right. He took the four seasons as his guide, and so the people’s work could be encouraged. He used the sun, moon, and stars to establish the order of time, and so government affairs could be arranged properly and achievements realized in their proper measure. He also treated the spirits as companions, and so his commands were obeyed and the results of his actions could be seen. He made human feelings the basis of governance, and so the people committed no wicked or perverse acts. And he regarded the Four Sacred Beings as auspicious signs: owls withdrew to the wilderness, while qilin appeared in the countryside.

The Doctrine of the Mean says that one who reaches this state can make things shine forth without displaying them, transform them without pushing them, and accomplish undertakings without acting. The enlightened sage kings of antiquity could therefore stand alongside Heaven, receive offerings from the High Lord, and become masters of the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and humanity. Rulers of every age should take them as models.

The Doctrine of the Mean also says that there are three important things in governing the world. If one can fulfill them, one will probably make few mistakes. Even if a person in a high position acts well, without concrete results that can be verified, they cannot win people’s trust; if the people do not trust them, they will naturally not obey. Even if a person in a low position acts well, without receiving respect, they cannot win people’s trust; if the people do not trust them, they will naturally not obey.

Therefore, a gentleman’s moral standards should begin with himself and be confirmed among the people. When used to assess the conduct of sage kings throughout the ages, they reveal no contradictions. Applied between Heaven and Earth, they do not go against what is right. Put to the test by spirits, they raise no doubts. Even if left for sages a hundred generations hence to examine, they will not confuse them. Thus, a gentleman’s conduct can serve as a standard for the world from age to age, his actions as a model for the world from age to age, and his words as a law for the world from age to age. Even at a distance, people look up to him; in his presence, they do not tire of him. The Book of Songs says, “Here or there, no one is displeased with him; by day and night, he works diligently without rest, and so he can preserve his good name for long.” If a gentleman lacks these virtues, he will not win the world’s acclaim early in life.

The Hongdao lu says that the “three important things” refer to Shun’s establishment of the Five Rites and his stipulation that five jade objects, three silk gifts, two living animals, and one dead animal be presented as gifts of greeting. These ritual objects were used in deliberating over the rites. He harmonized the seasons, months, and calendar…

The Hongdao lu says: Standardizing musical pitch, weights, and measures establishes a system; setting out affairs of government allows its rhetoric to be examined; testing government by its actual results is what truly assesses civil governance. Confucius took Yao and Shun as his models and carried on their lineage of the Dao, so he was filled with concern. He had virtue but no official authority, and so passed down to later generations his teachings on the “six matters.” His words may not have won people’s trust at the time, but they did earn the praise of all under Heaven.

From then on, Confucius’s conduct became a path followed for all ages, his words became rules observed for all ages, and his example became a standard emulated for all ages. His influence was not confined to a single generation. Later practices such as the Mianzui rites, in which bundles of grass were used to set up ritual arrangements; rare and rudimentary institutions; the characters created by Wu Zhao (Wu Zetian); and newly compiled scriptures had nothing to do with the principles expressed in the “six matters.” For a time, they may have deceived people’s eyes and ears and confused their minds, but they did not win the praise of all under Heaven, and so soon vanished altogether. In light of this, were the teachings on the “six matters” ultimately credible or not? Those who hold the power to create institutions cannot avoid the responsibilities that come with it.

In “Yan Yuan” of the Analects, Zigong asked how to govern. Confucius said, “Give the people enough food, provide adequate military equipment, and make the people trust the state.” Zigong asked, “If circumstances make it unavoidable that one of these three must be given up, which should go first?” Confucius replied, “Give up the military equipment.” Zigong asked again, “If one of the two remaining must also be given up, which should go first?” Confucius replied, “Give up the food. Since ancient times, people have always faced death. But if the people do not trust the state, the state cannot stand.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “This insight surpasses the ages, past and present. Throughout history, many have discussed military equipment and food. Who would dare say they could be sacrificed? Yet Confucius and Zigong’s exchange presses the question to its conclusion. Did Confucius speak this way because he saw the importance of trust? The cases of the Qin and Sui dynasties bear this out.

“Since the time of Shang Yang, Qin had cast aside trust and righteousness, pursuing only wealth and power. The First Emperor of Qin was convinced that he had built an unshakable foundation. How could he have imagined that one day he would have to give anything up? Yet a single call from among the people was enough to bring the Qin dynasty toward its ruin. Even if the people remained alive, how could the state stand?

“After the Six Dynasties, Sui inherited a powerful realm and boasted that its strength surpassed that of earlier dynasties. It, too, thought it had nothing to give up. Sui stored grain at Luokou and allowed the people to take it for themselves. It could be said that food was plentiful, yet this did nothing to help. Only when Sui enacted the ‘Three Articles Compact,’ a concise set of three laws, did the people begin to catch their breath. Prisoners came forward to surrender, and the people no longer thought of fleeing or seeking death. This shows that trust is indispensable. Military equipment and food concern life and death; everyone depends on them and understands their importance. Trust is different: people often neither know how to rely on it nor readily recognize it. That is why Confucius later stated the matter so aptly: ‘If a person has no credibility, I truly do not know what they can accomplish.’”

If a large cart lacks the ni, the fitting that joins the crossbar to the front of its shaft, or a small cart lacks the yue, the fitting that connects to its shaft, how can it travel? Alas, when people lose trust, they cannot get things done; when the people lose trust, they have no firm footing. That is the lesson here.

The Wai ji records that when Yu was traveling, he saw a criminal, got down from his carriage to question him, and wept for him. One of his attendants said, “This criminal has failed to follow the right way. Why does the ruler grieve for him?” Yu replied, “In the age of Yao and Shun, the people took the intentions of Yao and Shun as their own. I am their ruler, yet the people each act according to their own intentions. That is why I weep.”

The Hongdao lu comments: This shows that without trust and righteousness among the people, the state cannot stand secure. In the age of Yao and Shun, the people took their rulers’ intentions as their own, which means that those above and below trusted one another and shared a single purpose. When Yu said that he was ruler but the people each had their own thoughts, it was because the ruler had lost their trust, and they no longer followed him. People have said that when the people came to pay court, bring lawsuits, sing praises, and pledge their allegiance, they turned to Shun rather than Yu. Yet the people’s support for Shun and Yu differed in degree; and if the goal was to transform the people’s customs so that the four quarters moved with the ruler as wind moves through the land, the two still fell short of one another. For this reason, rulers after the Three Dynasties must keep the people in their hearts and treat them as those close to them.

Mencius said, “When Tang first went out on campaign, beginning with the state of Ge, the people throughout the realm trusted him. When he campaigned east, the western Yi people complained; when he campaigned south, the northern Di people complained. They all said, ‘Why are we the ones left until last?’ The people longed for him as they long for clouds and rainbows in a great drought. When Tang set out on campaign, the markets continued as usual, and the farmers did not alter their work. He punished the cruel rulers and comforted their people; like timely rain falling, he brought them great joy.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Even compared with Yu, Tang received a different degree of support from the people. The saying that “Heaven bestowed its mandate upon him, and the people turned to him” describes the final outcome of events. If Tang had failed to win the people’s trust when he first began his campaigns, how could he have explained his actions to the people of his own time and to later generations? The Book of Documents praises his generosity and benevolence, which made the people’s trust in him plain; Mencius’s account is based on this. The rulers of the Warring States period committed unjust acts and killed those who did not deserve to die. Unable to win the trust of the people, they cared only to satisfy their desires in the moment. How could they be compared with Tang?

Taijia said, “Only Yi Yin had witnessed the rise and fall of the western city of the Xia. At first, the Xia were able to begin well and end well, and their ministers fulfilled their duties. Later, the succeeding rulers failed to end well, and their ministers failed to fulfill their duties. A succeeding ruler should take this as a warning.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Mencius said, “If a person truly has the resolve of Yi Yin, then Taijia may be released.” The commentator explains that Yi Yin’s resolve was to regard the world as belonging to all, to take responsibility for it, and to harbor not the slightest selfish thought. I believe that when Yi Yin first exiled Taijia, people trusted that he had no selfish motive.

The slightest trace of self-interest often begins here. A prime minister who usurps the ruler’s power and deceives him: was this done only by Li Si and Zhao Gao of the Qin dynasty? The stories of Hou Yi and Han Zhuo, who are said to have seized power in the Xia dynasty one after the other, also offer ample warning.

At the time, Taijia entrusted Yi Yin with the weighty task of governing the realm, thinking that even if he indulged himself without restraint, the country would not necessarily fall at once. Yi Yin admonished him with the principle that “one who assists a ruler must not fail to see things through,” exposing his selfish desires and breaking the false hope on which he relied. What would Wang Mang, Cao Cao, the Liu princes, or Sima Yi—figures in history who wielded power arbitrarily or usurped the throne—have done in Yi Yin’s place? From this we can see that the intentions of sages can truly withstand the scrutiny of Heaven and Earth and the spirits, and can await the judgment of sages in later generations. They are clear and manifest, without the slightest doubt. How could they fail to command conviction?

The Jing also says: “Let the ruler not use clever words to disrupt established policies; let ministers not use favor and private gain to claim credit. In this way, the state can enjoy good fortune for a long time.”

The Hongdao Lu comments: This refers to the time after Yi Yin returned power to Taijia, when people believed that he had not the slightest trace of self-interest. Deliberately showing off one’s cleverness to disrupt established institutions, and using favor and private gain to claim credit—were these things done only by people like Duke Xiao of Qin and Shang Yang? The story of Jie, the last ruler of the Xia dynasty, invoking Heaven’s will as a pretext to reject worthy men and attach himself to the powerful, also serves as a warning. Moreover, Yi Yin held the high office of Aheng, the title for a chief minister in the Shang dynasty, and alone bore the heavy responsibility of restoring Taijia to the throne and bringing the Way back to order. If he had harbored even a trace of desire for favor or gain, what would he not have done?

Yet Yi Yin remained calm and content, no different from when he had farmed in the fields. As soon as his work was complete, he withdrew from office. He had not failed the former king, Taijia, or the people. His upright loyalty was as plain to see as the clear sky and bright sun; Heaven and Earth and the spirits seemed moved by its radiance. Through the ages, people throughout the realm have admired the breadth of his character. Even someone like Cai Ze understood that things follow an order of rise and decline. Could others really have failed to understand this? Shang Yang was ultimately torn apart by chariots, and the Five Kings could not escape exile and punishment. There are many other examples. Were these not precisely the kind of people Yi Yin held in contempt?

The Shuoming records that the Shang king observed mourning for three years in Liangyin, the place where a ruler lived in seclusion during mourning. When the mourning period ended, he still did not speak, and the assembled ministers urged him to do so. The king then wrote a proclamation, saying: “I hope that the four quarters will all return to the right Way, but I fear that my De is insufficient, so I dare not speak. I remain respectfully silent, reflecting on the way to govern the state. In a dream, I saw the Lord on High grant me a worthy assistant to speak on my behalf. I carefully studied the appearance of the person in my dream, drew his likeness, and sent people throughout the realm to search for him. Later, we found Fu Yue in the wilderness of Fuyan. His appearance matched the figure in my dream exactly.”

The Record of Broadening the Dao says: Why did King Gaozong of Shang have that dream? It was because his utmost sincerity was in accord with Heaven. What his spirit felt and his heart held in mind naturally found a response, though people cannot explain the reason. Why did that particular scene appear in the dream? The true principle is manifest everywhere, yet how the omen came about, and why it took exactly that form, are equally difficult to explain.

What matters is having no thoughts or intentions in the heart, and no action: being still and not moving recklessly. If even the slightest intention in the heart shows itself outwardly, or if words reveal one’s thoughts before one has acted, others can spot the opening and take the chance to flatter. Duke Xiao of Qin was intent on reforming the laws and institutions, so Shang Yang was able to put his proposals into practice. Emperor Shenzong of Song was intent on examining ancient precedents and taking action, so Wang Anshi was able to carry out his treacherous schemes. When these two rulers appointed their ministers, they thought themselves wiser than those who relied on dream interpretation and divination. They did not realize how deeply skilled in subtle arts were those who played to their wishes. This shows that reverent stillness and single-minded devotion to the Dao can indeed bring one’s thoughts into communion with Heaven and Earth, and establish a connection with spirits and gods. Otherwise, few people would have won the trust of later generations as Deng Tong did with Emperor Wen of Han, or Wang Liang with Emperor Guangwu of Han.

The Book of Documents, in the “Metal-Bound Coffer” chapter, records that during the reign of King Cheng of Zhou, the autumn crops were growing well but had not yet been harvested when, suddenly, thunder and lightning broke out and a violent wind arose. All the grain was flattened, and even great trees were uprooted. The people were terrified. King Cheng and his ministers put on their ceremonial caps and opened the documents kept in the metal-bound coffer. Only then did they read the record that the Duke of Zhou had once asked to take upon himself, in place of King Wu, the calamity that threatened him because of his deeds. King Cheng asked the two ministers and the officials responsible for documents and affairs whether the record was true. They replied, “It is indeed true. The Duke of Zhou instructed us not to speak of it, and we did not dare disobey.” Holding the document, King Cheng wept and said, “There is no need to consult the oracle again. In the past, the Duke of Zhou labored tirelessly for the royal house, but I, a young man, failed to understand this in time. Now Heaven has displayed its might to make the Duke of Zhou’s De known. I, a young man, should personally go to meet the Duke of Zhou’s coffin. In accordance with the rites of the state, this matter should also be announced.” King Cheng went beyond the city walls, and rain began to fall; the wind changed direction, and all the flattened grain stood upright again. The two ministers ordered the people to raise the great trees brought down by the wind and pack earth around them to secure them. That year, the crops yielded a great harvest.

The Record of Broadening the Dao also says: Zhang Zai once explained that there are principles of mutual response and influence between intention and Qi, and between Heaven and humanity. When a sage ruler is on the throne, if rumors arise, the vital energy is stirred in response; a single-minded intention can also stir it. Heaven’s will then responds, and thunder, lightning, wind, and rain arise. From this we can see that in the flourishing eras of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, rulers and ministers were in harmony with one another, and sincere intentions could reach Heaven.

To use Yin-Yang movement and stillness as an analogy: Yin and Yang are each other’s root, and movement and stillness give rise to one another. The difference between them is only a hair’s breadth. In later generations, Yin grew strong while Yang declined; Heaven and Earth no longer communicated, and those above and below became divided and estranged. It was like Emperor Ling of the Han, who pardoned the members of the partisan faction only after the Yellow Turban Rebellion, or Emperor Huizong of the Song, who lifted the ban on the Yuanyou Partisan Stele only after the calamity of a comet’s appearance. By then it was already too late. When people rush about in panic only once danger has struck, and only then are moved to concern, is it any wonder that they remain muddled and ignorant when faced with Heaven’s obscurity?

The Spring and Autumn Annals records: In the spring, in the third month of the first year of Duke Yin of Lu, Duke Yin and Yifu of the state of Zhu made an alliance at Mie.

The author of the Hongdao lu says: Confucius once said that since ancient times no one has escaped death, but without the people’s trust in those above, a state cannot stand. Some explain this to mean: I would rather die than break faith with the people, so that the people, too, would rather die than break faith with me. If I would rather die than betray the people’s trust, why force anyone to provide a hostage as security? If the people would rather die than betray my trust, why should I demand hostages from others? This was how rulers governed in antiquity. Later, as the age declined and moral principles deteriorated, rulers ceased to trust their ministers—and this was not confined to relations between neighboring states. Fathers ceased to trust their sons—and this was not confined to dealings with outsiders. So agreements, the exchange of hostages, and formal alliances multiplied. In composing the Spring and Autumn Annals, Confucius treated trust as the ruler’s greatest treasure. That is why he began by recording the alliance at Mie: he wished later rulers and ministers to keep their agreement as firmly as metal and stone, and as steadily as the four seasons. In this way, he sought to bring order to their hearts, align the aims of those above and below, uphold the Way from beginning to end, and prevent the first signs of fickleness. His intention to set an example for later generations and establish moral instruction was profoundly earnest. But did Duke Yin of Lu truly uphold trust and righteousness? When self-interest stirs in the heart, public and private concerns part company; when one’s intentions are false from the outset, betrayal becomes apparent in the end. Duke Yin used humility as a pretense to advertise his righteousness, and outward show to feign trustworthiness. His true feelings are plain when we see that he first made the alliance at Mie, then later undertook to attack Zhu. The Book of Songs says, “The gentleman makes alliance after alliance, and disorder grows from it.” Surely it speaks of just such a case.

The Zuo Tradition records: Duke Wu of Zheng and Duke Zhuang of Zheng served as ministers of the Zhou king, King Ping. The king then wished to divide the government between them and Duke of Guo. Duke Zhuang resented King Ping, who denied that he had any such intention. Zhou and Zheng then exchanged hostages: Prince Hu went to Zheng as a hostage, and Zheng’s young lord, Hu, went to the Zhou court as a hostage. After King Ping died, the people of Zhou planned to put the Duke of Guo in charge of the government. In the fourth month, Zhai Zu of Zheng led troops to reap the wheat at Wen; in autumn, they also reaped the grain at Chengzhou. Trust between Zhou and Zheng was thereby completely broken.

When the states of Zhou and Zheng were at odds, a gentleman said, “If trust and righteousness do not come from the heart, exchanging hostages is useless. If both sides understand and show consideration for each other, and act according to ritual, who could drive them apart even without hostages? If there is genuine trust, then plants growing beside mountain streams, brooks, ponds, and islets—water plants such as ping, fan, yun, and zao—as well as offerings placed in baskets or cooking pots, and water gathered in low places or flowing along roads, can all be used to make offerings to spirits and presented to rulers. How much more, then, should a gentleman who makes an agreement of trust between two states carry it out according to ritual? Why exchange hostages at all? The Songs of the Air, ‘Gathering Fan’ and ‘Gathering Ping,’ and the Songs of the Greater Elegance, ‘Reeds by the Road’ and ‘The Distant Ladle,’ all speak of loyalty and trust.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “‘Gathering Fan,’ ‘Gathering Ping,’ ‘Reeds by the Road,’ and ‘The Distant Ladle’ are all poems from the Zhou dynasty. Yet later, a son distrusted his father, giving rise to ‘The Little Pan’; a wife distrusted her husband, giving rise to ‘White Blossoms.’ King You should have felt close to and trusted these very kin of his, yet he deposed the heir and killed his own family. Where could Prince Hu and Zheng’s Prince Hu have found a way to uphold trust? This is why people repeatedly exchanged hostages and yet remained fickle and hostile toward one another. Zuo’s account, too, laments how differently people behave when the world is in turmoil and when it is at peace.”

Mencius said, “Among the Five Hegemons, Duke Huan of Qi was the most powerful. When the lords met in covenant at Kuiqiu, they bound the hair of the sacrificial animals and wrote down their agreement; some lords did not even swear by tasting the blood. The covenant began by declaring the Son of Heaven’s prohibitions. The first stipulation was: punish those who fail in filial duty; do not replace the heir; do not make a concubine the wife. The second was: honor the worthy, nurture the talented, and thereby bring distinction to people of virtue. The third was: respect the elderly, care for the young, and do not forget guests and travelers. The fourth was: a scholar-official’s post must not pass from one generation to the next; officials must not take charge of unrelated duties; talent must be selected impartially; and no one may kill a senior officer without authorization. The fifth was: do not arbitrarily build dikes to block water; do not obstruct the trade in grain; and do not enfeoff a state without reporting it to the Son of Heaven. All of us who have joined this covenant must, after swearing our oath, make peace with one another.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “Later, it was Zai Kong who was sent to convey the ruler’s greetings to Duke Huan of Qi; and it was also Zai Kong who received the Marquis of Jin before Duke Huan did. At first, he feared the authority of the Son of Heaven; later, he declared the Son of Heaven’s prohibitions. How can this be taken to mean that he should not have joined the covenant? Mencius said, ‘A respectful person does not bully others; a frugal person does not plunder others. A ruler who bullies and plunders others fears only that people will not submit to him. How can he be called respectful and frugal? Can respect and frugality be shown merely through one’s tone of voice and the smile on one’s face?’ Although Zai Kong was a servant of the Zhou king, and his political power was less than Zhong’s (Guan Zhong’s), he had nevertheless observed Duke Huan of Qi’s intentions. In truth, Duke Huan was angry over the capture of Lady Shao and used it as a pretext to campaign south against Chu; he also used the campaign against the Shan Rong as a pretext to plot against Yan in the north. Moreover, this covenant…”

When something is so grand that it satisfies the eyes and ears and delights the heart, people may fail to see the truth. Confucius could look at a person as if he could see their lungs and liver. For this reason, the sages of antiquity devoted themselves to cultivating virtue and were careful in their words and conduct when alone. Although King Wen of Zhou already controlled two-thirds of the realm, he still served the Yin dynasty. Ah, King Wen’s virtue was already so lofty—what fault could later generations possibly find with him?

In the winter of the thirteenth year of Duke Zhuang of Lu, Duke Zhuang met with Duke Huan of Qi at Ke to make an alliance. The Gongyang Commentary says: “Why is the date of the alliance not recorded? Because an incident occurred at this meeting. What was the incident? Earlier alliances made by Duke Huan were not dated, and their completion was not reported, because he kept his word. From this point onward, the dates began to be recorded. Why did this begin with this meeting?”

As Duke Zhuang was about to meet Duke Huan of Qi, Caozi—also known as Cao Mo, a minister of Lu—came forward and asked, “What does the lord intend to do?” Duke Zhuang said, “I would be better off dead than alive.” Caozi replied, “In that case, please deal with Duke Huan of Qi, and I will deal with his ministers.” Duke Zhuang agreed.

At the meeting, Duke Zhuang ascended the altar of alliance, with Caozi beside him holding a sword. Guan Zhong stepped forward and asked Caozi, “What do you want?” Caozi said, “Qi has taken Lu’s cities and pressed its borders close to Lu. Does your lord not intend to address this?” Guan Zhong asked, “Then what do you want?” Caozi answered, “I hope you will return the fields of Wenyang.” Guan Zhong turned to Duke Huan of Qi, who agreed, saying, “Very well.” Caozi asked Duke Huan to swear the oath of alliance. Duke Huan descended from the altar and swore it with him. When the agreement was complete, Caozi sheathed his sword and departed.

This was an alliance made under duress, and it could have been broken. But Duke Huan of Qi did not deceive Caozi, and so his reputation for keeping his word began to spread throughout the realm from the alliance at Ke.

The Hongdao lu comments: “Caozi was merely a low-ranking minister of Lu. The hegemon of Qi lowered himself to grant his request. Is that what it means to keep one’s word?” The answer is: “Not so. Guan Zhong once said that understanding how to give first in order to gain more in return is an important principle of statecraft.

“After the Battle of Changshao, Caozi despised advisers who cared only for immediate gain, and for a time Qi was almost unable to recover its strength. Later, Qi lost the meeting at Beixing, Duke Huan of Qi became estranged from four states, and Lu still had not been pacified. Guan Zhong understood that if Lu was to regain room to act, he first had to understand its intentions. Lu was a fellow clan state of the Zhou royal house. Qi had murdered Lu’s ruler and caused the lady of Lu to lose her virtue. At the meeting at Ke, Duke Zhuang believed he would be better off dead than alive because he was consumed with shame and anger, and wanted to use the alliance as a pretext to attack Qi. If Qi had used this occasion to humiliate Lu before the other lords, how could it have won the willing support of the people throughout the realm?

“Caozi’s strategy was truly shallow. Threatening with a sword was no more than the courage of an ordinary man, and the fields of Wenyang were only a small gain. Yet everyone in Qi went along with his plan, and not one of the ruler or his ministers saw the larger picture: give up a small advantage in exchange for a great reputation. Thus, knowing how to give first and take back later is a vital instrument of statecraft.”

To use it as a magic weapon for governing the state and seizing power—is this not precisely Guan Zhong’s art of political maneuvering?

When Duke Wen of Jin besieged Yuan, he ordered his army to carry only three days’ worth of provisions. After three days, Yuan had still not surrendered, so he ordered the troops to withdraw. A scout came out of the city and reported, “Yuan is about to surrender.” The officers in the army asked him to wait a little longer. Duke Wen said, “Trustworthiness is a treasure of the state and what the people depend on for protection. If we gain Yuan but lose our trustworthiness, what can we use to protect the state and its people? Our losses will only grow.” So the Jin army withdrew thirty li—one she, the distance an army marched in ancient times—and Yuan surrendered.

The Record says: Duke Wen’s achievements were certainly great, but they were duties his ministers were bound to fulfill. How could Jin use them as grounds to seize four cities belonging to the Zhou king? The royal house’s territory was no larger than the states of Cao and Teng, and its people no more numerous than those of Zhu and Ju. A person of conscience could not remain so indifferent; how could anyone bear to divide up yet more of the royal house’s land? Yuan had not rebelled against the Zhou king; its garrison was defending the city on the king’s behalf. The Zhou king had lost the way of governing, driving Yuan to rebel against him and submit to Jin. How tragic, Earl of Yuan! If Duke Wen of Jin had truly wanted to set the world aright, he should have put the royal domain in order and returned the lands seized by the feudal lords. Had he punished those who occupied others’ territory and made trustworthiness shine, his reputation would have endured like the sun and moon. Instead, he failed to understand human feelings and simply indulged in the tactics of hegemony. He was skilled at using schemes, but did not truly understand the keeping of promises and honoring of trust.

Prince Hu convened an alliance with the feudal lords in the royal palace. They swore: “All of us must support the royal house and must not harm one another. May the bright spirits punish whoever breaks this covenant, destroy his army, and bring his state to an end; may even his distant descendants, down to his great-grandchildren, be denied a peaceful lifespan, with neither young nor old spared.” A gentleman judged that the covenant appeared to speak of trustworthiness. Judging by Jin’s conduct at the gathering, it seemed capable of winning people over through De.

The Record says: At the meeting of Kuiqiu, the feudal lords asked to sacrifice an animal and establish a covenant, but they did not swear by tasting its blood—the ritual of drinking the sacrificial blood or smearing it on the mouth—because Duke Huan of Qi had already won their allegiance through his authority and trustworthiness. There was no need to wait for the words of the oath to be spoken. At the covenant of Jiantu, Zheng and Wei were still quarreling without end, because Duke Wen of Jin was insatiably greedy and disregarded the loss of the Zhou king’s territory. This shows that even before the sacrificial blood had dried from their mouths, each person was still making plans for himself. How could they truly have been supporting the royal house together? And how could the force of the covenant last down to their great-grandchildren? Compare the two gatherings, and you can see that one hegemon was inferior to the other.

In the fourth year of Duke Dao of Jin, Wei Jiang served as minister of military affairs. The ruler of the state of Wuzhong sent his official Meng Le with tiger and leopard skins, requesting peace between Jin and the Rong. Duke Dao said, “The people of the Yi and Di have no sense of kinship and are insatiably greedy. Better to send out troops and attack them.” Wei Jiang said, “The feudal lords have only just submitted, and Chen has also just come seeking peace. They are all watching our De. If we have De, they will be harmonious; if we lack it, they will become alienated and rebel. If we use force against the Rong…”

“If the state of Chu attacks Chen, we will certainly be too late to come to its aid. That would amount to abandoning Chen, and the states of the Central Plains will surely turn against us. If we capture the Rong and lose the states of the Central Plains, would that not be unwise?”

Wei Jiang replied, “Making peace with the Rong has five advantages. The Rong and Di—names for northern peoples—move from place to place in search of water and pasture and prize material goods. They are willing to exchange land for goods, and land can be traded. That is the first advantage. The border will no longer be disturbed; the people will become familiar with local conditions, and farmers will be able to work their fields in peace. That is the second. When the Rong and Di submit to Jin, the neighboring states in every direction will be shaken, and the feudal lords will respect Jin’s power. That is the third. We can pacify the Rong through De (Virtue/Power), without exhausting our people or mobilizing troops. That is the fourth. Taking Hou Yi of old as a warning, we can govern with De, pacify distant peoples, and bring security to those nearby. That is the fifth. I ask you to consider this carefully.”

Duke Dao of Jin was pleased by Wei Jiang’s words and sent him to Jiang to make an alliance with the various Rong tribes.

The Hongdao lu records: “When I read the Spring and Autumn period histories, I wonder why Wei Jiang could make peace with the Rong and Di on the strength of these five advantages, while people today cannot do the same. Jin occupied what is now the Shanxi region. In those days, Jin served as a regional power, responsible for defending its territory, and was reputed to be strong. Today, however, a regional power is merely a screen and support for the imperial court. Although Wei Jiang was called a skilled strategist, in our time he would be no more than an ordinary minister.

“Yet trouble on the borders is severe. The Rong’s demands are no small matter, as they were with tribes such as the Wuzhong; the resulting harm is far greater than simply abandoning Chen. Nor can the balance of gain and loss be compared to ‘capturing the Rong and losing the states of the Central Plains.’ Their raids continue year after year. When will they stop? If we keep driving them away, where can we settle the matter once and for all? How could anyone count up all the advantages and disadvantages?

“Prizing material goods and exchanging them for land is a common aim among the peoples beyond the frontier. Farmers’ ability to work in peace and the security of the border are benefits on which everyone depends. Was Wei Jiang alone in saying this? Rather than spending untold wealth to maintain an army that can do no more than stand guard, why not follow the methods of earlier generations and learn from the success of making peace with the Rong?

“Flocks of sheep and dogs must have somewhere to belong. Given the present circumstances, why not send an envoy skilled in negotiation to the place where the three Lu tribes gather, make an agreement with them in good faith, and pacify them with kindness and righteousness while winning them over with benefits? We would keep to our existing border as the boundary, have them move farther away, and allow them to follow local customs. Each year, we could agree on a particular day in a particular month to meet at a designated place along the frontier. When the time came, we would strengthen our defenses and patrol carefully, displaying our power so that they would not look down on the Central Plains. In other months, they would not be allowed to approach the frontier on their own initiative. Let them settle in the Hetao region, and let their tribal chiefs issue commands, so that the people along the border can live in peace and recover. Once our forces are strong, our provisions plentiful, and our good faith trusted, we can then gradually discuss a distant campaign.”

Emperor Chengzu (Zhu Di of the Ming dynasty) could proclaim the might of his state in the desert regions. The Han dynasty could also carve an account of its achievements into stone on Mount Yanran. Are these not among the most important strategies? To abandon such undertakings and do nothing but delay through inertia, letting the years pass, yet call that an achievement—this can only lead to a policy with no sound basis, at times halting military action and at times merely holding the defenses. Such a policy could not be sustained even for a single day. Can an emperor really make an enemy submit without fighting? I am old and worn out, and no longer have the chance to offer advice at court. So, taking Wei Jiang’s petition as my occasion, I have written this down to make my intention clear.

Zhao Meng was troubled by the matter of Chu, and Yuan Jia told Shuxiang of his concern. Shuxiang said, “What is there to worry about? A person cannot get away with breaking his word even once. If he breaks it while meeting with the lords and their ministers, he certainly will not succeed. When someone fails to keep his word, it is not you who suffers. He summons others in the name of trustworthiness, yet tries to achieve his ends through arrogant misconduct. No one will be willing to help him. How could that harm us?”

At the meeting of the covenant in Guo, Qi Wu said to Zhao Wenzi, “At the covenant meeting in Song, the people of Chu gained the upper hand over Jin. Now the Chief Minister of Chu is breaking his word, and all the feudal lords have heard of it. If you do not stay alert and prepare, I fear things will again turn out as they did at Song. Zimu was known for his trustworthiness even among his subordinates, yet he was still able to outdo Jin. How much more so now, when we face someone even less trustworthy?”

Zhao Wenzi said, “I am grateful for your counsel. Yet at the covenant meeting in Song, Zimu harbored harmful intentions, while I held to benevolence; that is why Chu gained the upper hand over Jin. I still hold to the same intention. Even if Chu commits further acts of arrogance, it cannot harm me. I will take trustworthiness as my foundation and follow it in all I do, as a farmer weeds the field and builds up the soil. Even if famine comes, there will eventually be a year of abundant harvest. I have heard that one who can keep his word will not accept being second to anyone. I have not yet reached that point. The Book of Odes says, ‘Do not act arrogantly, do not harm others; few will fail to take this as their standard.’ This is what trustworthiness means.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “Master Lü of Donglai praised Zhao Wenzi for responding with ease, amid conversation and laughter, to the sudden ‘armored men’ incident”—the surprise preparation for violence, with men secretly putting on armor during the covenant meeting. “But does this really show that he understood Zhao Wenzi? He seems not to have understood that Zhao Wenzi took trustworthiness as his foundation, and so had nothing to fear.

“Mencius said, ‘I can discern speech, and I am skilled at nurturing my vast, flowing Qi.’ Zimu coveted gain and was bent on showing his strength. His ruin was near, and even his colleagues knew it; Zhao Wenzi had surely seen it clearly long before. That is why he said that Zimu was simply going to his own destruction, and also that when a person fails to keep his word, it is not himself who suffers. Zhao Wenzi was humble, almost frail, and slow of speech; yet he could put an end to war and bring peace to the people. How far, then, could he really have been from Chu when relations turned hostile? Which matters more: abandoning trustworthiness once one has gained the upper hand, or refusing to take offense when one has been slighted?”

King Wu’s resolve was firm before he established this undertaking. Jin’s good faith could be relied upon, but Chu’s army could not. How, then, could his resolve have been shaken? Sadly, he was still not wholly upright: he hoped to rely on Song to sustain himself in a desperate situation, and lost his life as a result. That was why he turned his back on Chu. So although he briefly won a good reputation, he lacked the moral integrity that endures through the ages. He was fit only to be counted among the hungry and destitute, and in the end could not escape the failings of his blood and vital energy.

Xun Wu of Jin led an army to besiege Gu. Someone in Gu asked to surrender the city and defect, but Xun Wu refused. His attendants said, “Without any effort from the army, we could take a city. Why not accept?”

Xun Wu replied, “I once heard Shu Xiang say: when likes and dislikes are not partial, the people know where they should turn, and no undertaking is impossible. This person offers us the city because he hates us; and what I hate most is precisely this kind of conduct. What is there to like in someone who offers up a city to join us? If I reward the very conduct I despise, how can I treat what I do like? If I do not reward it, I break faith. How, then, could I protect the people? When capable, attack; when incapable, withdraw. Measure your strength before you act. I cannot draw close to treacherous people just to gain a city. The loss from that would be greater.”

Xun Wu ordered the people of Gu to kill the turncoat and repair the city’s defenses. After the siege had lasted three months, someone in Gu asked to surrender. Xun Wu sent men from the army to inspect the city. They found that the people still had food and did not look hungry, so he decided to continue repairing the defenses for the time being. The military officers said, “We could already take the city, yet we do not attack. We are making the soldiers toil and exhausting the army. How will you answer to the ruler?”

Xun Wu replied, “This is how I serve the ruler. What use is taking a city if we teach its people to neglect their duties? If gaining the city means teaching the people to be negligent, it is better to preserve the existing order and follow the Way of righteousness without straying from it. The city may eventually be taken, and the people may thereby come to understand where righteousness lies. They are resolved to die for what is right and have no second thoughts. Is that not good as well?”

The people of Gu reported that their food had run out and their strength was exhausted. The Jin army then captured Gu, but did not kill a single person.

The editor of Hongdao lu comments: “In the Spring and Autumn period, no war was righteous. Can this campaign against Gu be called a righteous war? Those who act righteously will be treated righteously by others; those who keep faith will be met with good faith. But if one makes a false alliance with the Qi army, where is the trustworthiness? If one asks to pass through the state of Xianyu, how can that be called righteous? Destroying Fei was already excessive. Could one really do it again? Going along with a ruler’s faults while condemning others for rebelling, enjoying flattery while willingly becoming a barbarian—these are all things a gentleman would reject.”

The Records of the Grand Historian says: “Sun Wu presented himself to the King of Wu on the strength of his knowledge of military strategy. The king said, ‘I have read all thirteen chapters of your military treatise. Can you use them to train troops in a small exercise?’ Sun Wu replied, ‘Yes.’

“Sun Wu then selected 180 women from the palace and divided them into two companies…”

Sun Wu selected three of the concubines favored by King Helü of Wu to serve as squad leaders and had each of them hold a halberd. He asked whether they knew which parts of the body corresponded to front, left, right, and rear. They said they did. Sun Wu explained that facing forward meant looking at the chest, facing left meant looking at the left hand, facing right meant looking at the right hand, and facing rear meant looking at the back. The concubines agreed.

Once the orders and discipline had been announced, Sun Wu set out the axes and mallets used for executions and again explained the orders three times and the commands five times. He then beat the drum to signal a right turn, but the concubines burst into laughter. Sun Wu said, "If the rules have not been made clear and the orders have not been thoroughly explained, the fault lies with the general." He therefore explained the orders three more times and the commands five more times, then beat the drum for a left turn. The concubines laughed again.

Sun Wu said, "The rules and orders have already been made clear, yet they are not carried out as required. This is the fault of the officers and soldiers." He ordered the execution of the leaders of the left and right companies. King Helü was watching from the platform. Seeing that Sun Wu was about to kill his favored concubines, he was alarmed and quickly sent an envoy with the message: "I already know that the general is skilled in warfare. Without these two concubines, I would find no flavor in my food. Please do not kill them."

Sun Wu replied, "Having received my commission as general and being in the army, there are royal commands I need not obey." He then executed the two leaders, displayed them to the assembly, and appointed others to take their place. Beating the drum again, he found that the troops, whether turning left or right, advancing or retreating, kneeling or rising, all conformed perfectly to the regulations, and no one dared make a sound.

Sun Wu sent an envoy to report to the King: "The troops are now in good order. Your Majesty may come down and review them. Use them as you wish; even going through fire and water, they will do it." The King said, "General, please withdraw the troops and return to camp. I do not wish to come down and review them." Sun Wu responded, "Your Majesty merely enjoys hearing about the principles of warfare, but cannot put them into practice."

From then on, Helü recognized that Sun Wu was skilled in warfare and ultimately appointed him general. Sun Wu defeated the powerful state of Chu to the west and entered its capital, Ying. To the north he awed Qi and Jin, and his fame became prominent among the feudal states. Sun Wu's merit in all this was great.

The compiler of the Hongdao Lu comments: Sun Wu's conduct surpasses that of Shang Yang and Wu Qi. Military orders must be enforceable, but the common people cannot be coerced; concubines may be executed, but wives should not be killed. The opening of Sun Wu's Thirteen Chapters speaks of "wisdom, trustworthiness, benevolence, courage, and strictness," and the King had already read it. Why, then, did he not grasp the principle that a ruler issues commands and ministers comply? The King merely enjoyed talk of warfare but could not carry it into action, which is a lack of wisdom. Because he indulged a favored concubine and set aside military orders, he lacked courage. Treating the drilling of troops as a game is a failure to govern the army strictly. Trustworthiness is a ruler's most precious treasure. If it is compromised even in a small-scale drill, how much more so in affairs of state? Even if one must execute the women to make an example, one should not blindly yield to others.

Some hold that this was an act of good faith. Others, however, say: "When paying respects, one does not stand alongside the lord's carriage horses. Even a favored concubine may not, on that account, defy commands or kill at will. Could this be the intention of a benevolent person?"

The lu horse was the horse the ruler used to draw his carriage, and it is used here as an analogy. Mencius said, "The benevolent are honored, while the unbenevolent are disgraced." Wu (referring to King Helü of Wu) did not despise those who lightly mocked the rules with laughter. What he particularly despised were those who, drunk, forced others to drink. He eventually broke into Chu and entered its capital, Ying, overawed Qi, brought Jin to submission, and his fame spread among the feudal lords. Then, even if he was not known for lofty virtue, can it not be said that he respected the scholars?